


every time i turn, i'm always searching for you

by Anonymous



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Dream Sequences, Dreams and Nightmares, Dreams vs. Reality, Inspired by Music, Multi, Platonic Relationships, Unreliable Narrator, disclaimer in author’s notes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-03-06
Packaged: 2019-03-27 16:56:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13885113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: “Come on, Han. You can run faster.”Sweat blurs his vision, his limbs heavy with exhaustion.“Come on, Hansol. Come find me.”-For all of his speed, Hansol can't seem to outrun his nightmares.





	every time i turn, i'm always searching for you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [toezi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/toezi/gifts).



> title: [lilili yabbay](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wvBtrgTeeTs) (finding an accurate translation is so tricky, but this lyric suits the fic the best Fuc) 
> 
> there will be notes on the entire au at the end, in case you're confused and so you can check up on them as the fic continues <3
> 
> \- 
> 
> quick thank you notes: 
> 
> thank you firstly to my friends for supporting this idea! i have had this idea for a while, and without your support i would not be able to write it.
> 
> thank you to denna, for a) being my friend and b) supporting my aus. i love and appreciate you very very much and this fic is for you. 
> 
> thank you to quinn! for being the best beta, and for supporting this au and for just being Great. i really appreciate you a lottttt <3
> 
> and lastly: thank you to the creators of this fic fest! snowflower has been a lot of fun and for this being my first fic fest i couldn't have asked for anything better.

“You can go faster.” 

The ground cracks beneath his feet, his surroundings morphing into scenes that are, at best, nightmarish.

“Faster, faster, faster.”

The voice beside him encourages him with a yell, its source hazy in his peripheral.

“Come on, Han. You can run faster.”

Sweat blurs his vision, his limbs heavy with exhaustion.

“Come on, Hansol. Come find me.”

—

“I’d prefer if you didn’t sleep in the forest.”

There’s a boy sat across from him when he comes to, scrawny form pellucid and glimmering beneath the sun’s rays.

For all of the annoyance present in his words, the boy stares at him with something akin to familiarity, a smile plastered on his lips.

“Sorry,” Hansol murmurs, sheepish.

He ignores that the boy’s voice is reminiscent of the one haunting his dreams in preference of appraising the woodlands around him.

The forest is thick, littered with an array of healthy vegetation that seems foreign in comparison to the mediocre woods that surround Hansol’s village.

The boy before him, terrifyingly broad and intimidating once he stands up, looks at him in amusement.

“You’re not from around here.” There’s no question in his tone, merely certainty.

Hansol hums. “Is that not obvious?” He jokes, attempting to dispel the uncomfortable air between them.

“If you were from here, you’d know better than to sleep in these woods.”

Hansol frowns, standing up on shaky legs. From here, beneath the shade, the boy’s skin is surprisingly opaque. His hair is the color of moss, and his eyes are a dazzling indigo.

Hansol wonders if the boy warns him out of concern, if his tragic fate came as a result of his recklessness.

—

“Han, catch up!”

There’s a tight grip on his arm, clammy fingers cool against his heated skin.

“Seungkwan! Stop slowing him down, we have to hurry up if we want to reach town before the festival starts!”

He can’t see beyond the fog in front of him, can’t feel beyond the hands tethering him to reality.

“If he was really in such a big hurry, he could’ve just apparated us there.” A voice grumbles beside him with a frown.

The concrete below him feels unbelievably lightweight, almost nonexistent.

“Hey, Sol. Do you think we co–”

—

“Are you from here?” Hansol questions as the boy strolls beside him.

He wonders what lurks within these woods, and if he’ll ever discover the secrets that lie within its depths.

There’s an ominous air coupled with a sluggishness that looms over them. It feels like they’ve been walking for centuries, but the sun hasn’t moved an inch since he woke up.

“Yes,” Hansol’s companion nods, before cracking a cautious smile. “Actually, these are my woods. I’m the protector of this forest.”

Hansol peers at him in confusion, brows furrowed.

The boy continues, playing ignorant to the plethora of questions running through Hansol’s mind.

“Most humans don’t visit these woods. Especially those from the village. You’re different though,” he glances at Hansol, amused. “You  _ ran  _ here. I’ve never seen anything like it, actually— someone running that fast. It’s almost like you were running  _ from _ something.”

There’s an omniscience that shrouds over the other, reinforced by the knowledge nestled within his tone.

Hansol wonders how he’d managed to miss it: the blatant power in his actions, the unsettling mischievousness present in his eyes.

“You’re looking at me as if I’m going to hurt you,” the boy pouts. “I’m the protector of the forest, not the night-walker. I wouldn’t dare harm a mortal.”

His words terrify more than comfort him.

“What if I wasn’t human?” He queries, avoiding the other’s gaze, a tremor threatening to course through his spine.

The boy hums. “I promise I wouldn’t harm you regardless.” He pauses, however, then grimaces.

“But I can’t say the same for the night-walker.”

—

“Hansol.”

The ground threatens to swallow him whole when he runs this time.

“Hansol.” There’s a hand grasping onto his, gentle fingers wiping at the sweat painting his skin.

“It’s time to stop running, Sol.”

Plump lips mouth at his forehead while strong arms hold him close.

“It’s time to stop, okay? Stop looking for someone who doesn’t want to be found.”

—

“What’s your name?”

Leaves crunch uncomfortably beneath his feet. The boy beside him moves with a gracefulness that entrances him.

“Hansol,” he divulges, picking at his scarred palms, “Hansol Chwe.”

As they walk, Hansol observes as plants flourish from the other’s presence. Flowers bloom at the boy’s smile, birds chirp at his voice, and the sun leaves his flesh bewitchingly luminescent. “Hansol,” he murmurs, soft.

“What’s yours?”

The boy hesitates briefly at the inquiry, a scowl unfurling on his lips before it’s easily replaced with a smile.

“Mingyu,” there’s insecurity prominent in his voice — a surprising contrast to his previously mischievous nature.

There’s a mystique to Mingyu, an unsettling peculiarity to him that makes Hansol curious about what lies beneath his impish veneer.

—

There’s a man before him, his form hazy and heavily distorted around the edges.

“Are you already giving up?”

He shivers at the irritation present in his tone.

“Do you even care that I’m gone?”

The man drifts closer, his features contorted into a scowl.

“Fuck. Did you even care about me, Han? About Seungkwan? About  _ us _ ?”

Nimble fingers intertwine with his own while thick nails scratch at his skin. There’s a familiarity to the man’s touch, though his voice is foreign and his face is a blur. 

—

“Are you hungry?”

Hansol frowns at the inquiry, realization beginning to dawn on him. For all the running he accomplished the night prior — from his apartment, through his village, past the icy tundra in the northern part of the continent to the forest he’s currently trapped within — he feels no hunger.

It’s strange. Usually after his runs he finds himself exhausted, achingly ravenous, or horribly fatigued. Yet he’s completely at ease— even though his stomach is empty and he’s bordering on dehydration.

“Not really,” Hansol admits, to Mingyu’s apparent surprise.

The other stares at him in bewilderment for a moment, before schooling his expression into nonchalance.

“Okay,” he mutters, “if you say so.”

—

“Sol.”

Sweat trickles down his back, his limbs thrashing beneath linen sheets.

There are two bodies beside him, one comfortingly hot, the other icy against his clammy skin.

“Sol, hey, it’s just a nightmare.”

Soft, gentle kisses are peppered against his cheeks, before he senses trembling fingers latching onto his own.

When he tightens his grip and opens his eyes, the fingers vanish.

“Honey, hey, focus on me.”

He swallows, his throat raw.

“Where’s–” his voice sounds different to his own ears; thick, congested. “Where’s Chan?”

A grimace passes over Seungkwan’s face, mixed with apprehension, “Hansol…”

His gaze flits around the room, catching on the photo frames and trio of rings on the bedside table.

He watches as the photos shift from three people to a lonely two.

“Where is he, Seungkwan?”

Seungkwan looks at him with wide eyes, hands clenched into fists against his sides.

“I don’t know,” he whispers, frustration nestled in his words, “I don’t know where he went.”

**Author's Note:**

> some notes on the au: 
> 
> \- inspirations are as follows: 
> 
> the flash (dc comics), multiverse (dc comics), saria (legend of zelda: ocarina of time), forest spirit/night walker (princess mononoke) 
> 
> The Flash | inspiration for hansol.  
> DC Multiverse | inspiration for the entire au, half of seventeen are on a separate earth.  
> Saria | mingyu's appearance.  
> Forest Spirit/Night Walker | inspiration for mingyu. 
> 
> \- powers of each character: 
> 
> hansol has superspeed, seungkwan can control time (complete and utter control of time), chan can teleport (the extents of this will be revealed later. power is inspired by blinking from charmed and also apparation from harry potter). 
> 
> mingyu has forest magic.
> 
> \- setting of the au: 
> 
> this is set in modern times, as is the wonhui fic the preceeds this. However, mingyu and minghao's fic will be set in the past. most likely during the 1800s or before. 
> 
> \- format of the fic: 
> 
> this fic is in a format that begins with hansol's nightmares/dreams/memories and then goes to the present. 
> 
> you can choose if you want to trust hansol's judgment, considering he has a difficult time differentiating between his memories and his dreams.
> 
> \- ot3's relationship: 
> 
> hansol, chan, and seungkwan were in a really close platonic relationship. you can choose what you’d like to interpret is as but i’m personally writing it as one that’s platonic. uwu 
> 
> \- why hansol is unreliable:
> 
> hansol has a hard time distinguishing between what is his reality and what isn't. 
> 
> even in the forest with mingyu, he feels no hunger and he even thinks mingyu's voice is similar to chan's. 
> 
> hansol's memories have morphed into these nightmarish scenes in which chan cruelly taunts him yet hansol takes them as fact and uses them to motivate his actions. 
> 
> the scene at the end, where there are three in the bed and when hansol opens up his eyes it's just him and seungkwan... 
> 
> you don't know if that's the actual truth. you don't even know if that's a real memory or something hansol made up.


End file.
